


Mistaken for Strangers

by lollipopmania



Category: Naruto
Genre: 6+1, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27391966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollipopmania/pseuds/lollipopmania
Summary: "Actually," he says, “that's just how we met again. It's a long story of how we met the first time. Even more romantic." He pauses and then grins in his holier-than-thou way and finishes, "would you like to hear it?”also titled: Six Times They Were Mistaken For A Couple And The One Time They Aren’ta 6+1 fic
Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Mistaken for Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> old post from ff  
> not valentine's day, but might as well get this out before the end of the world. 
> 
> inspired by the nationals' song (the phrase, not really the song)
> 
> (years obvs not consecutive... this happens over a greater span than 6 yrs)
> 
> [Translated into Vietnamese](https://bongmuoi.wordpress.com/2016/08/25/dich-naruto-shikatema-six-times-they-are-mistaken-for-a-couple-and-the-one-time-they-arent/)  
> by [ioncehadabrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioncehadabrain/pseuds/ioncehadabrain)

**Six Times They Were Mistaken For A Couple And The One Time They Aren’t**

* * *

**2.0 the next valentine's day, they are taken _as a couple_**

"So, how did you two meet?" The reporter asks, holding out her microphone.

Temari slips her hand from Shikamaru's grip without looking at him and shrugs to the camera, unamused. "On an airplane." Her voice is so edged, even to her, that she is surprised the reporter and cameraman don't turn around and run to find another, much better, couple.

"Really?" The reporter asks, surprisingly genuine. "That's so romantic! Tell us about it. Were you sitting together?"

"Not initially. He was in the back of the plane where there were empty seats, so I moved to get more room." She thinks it's an apt enough answer for being interrupted mid-walk home from their Valentine's Day dinner on the sidewalk by a cameraman and a human-interest journalist.

"Sounds like fate," the reporter offers in a dreamy voice.

But, of course, Shikamaru manages to push her aside and the camera and reporter turn to him in his nice suit and slicked back hair and Temari finds herself rolling her eyes before he even opens his mouth.

"Actually," he says, “you’re right. It was. The plane 's just how we met again. It's a long story of how we met the first time. Even more romantic." He pauses and then grins in his holier-than-thou way and finishes, "would you like to hear it?”

* * *

**6\. the sixth valentine's day that they meet accidentally, they are _mistaken for strangers_**

"There's a row in the very back," the attendant says. "One seat is occupied, but the person is sleeping so you probably won't be bothered that much."

Temari thanks him and lifts up her bag. She has a report to finish before the plane lands and her row-mates consist of a dead-on-her-feet mother and a screaming newborn. Of course, Temari understands and means no offense by switching seats, really, but she has to finish her work.

She walks down the aisle, maneuvering around the sleeping bodies. It's midway through an international flight and practically the whole plane is asleep.

When she finds the row, it doesn't take more than a sideways glance out of the corner of her eye for her to recognize him. That happens when one person was in your periphery for years. It happens when you were once married.

And apparently he is not so much sleeping as glaring at her with tired eyes.

"Temari," he says after a while of angry mutual staring, voice rough, clear that he just woke up. "What are you doing here?"

"Work."

He licks his lips, looks down at his hands, then looks back at her and nods. "Me too."

She's come this far and it would be weak to turn back (and she’s worked hard to never be weak, not with him) so she gestures to the empty aisle seat and he nods again. Silently, she slips in.

"Christ," she says after a moment. It's like he can't find the words and for her nothing else is coming to mind. "Today is really the worst day for us."

It takes a second and then he sighs. “It's Valentine's Day, isn't it?"

"Always is."

"Man."

He laughs, short and kind of raspy. She hasn't seen him for over a year and he looks so much worse for wear, but she knows she does too. Her body is stiff and her eyes heavy, but she can't stop smiling at him and she knows that, even then, she was never able to.

"It's a coincidence," he mutters then, reaching into the seatback pocket to pull out a worn paperback after she pulls out her laptop.

Temari shrugs to herself, but knows he sees it; knows he is watching her every movement.

"Or it could be fate," she whispers, and out of the corner of her eye, she sees him smile.

* * *

**5\. the fifth valentine's day that they meet accidentally, they are _mistaken for parents_**

"Oh, are you the mother?" The older woman asks, smiling in a knowing — though honestly really unsettling — manner.

Shikamaru is holding one of the twins on his hip, his index wrapped in the boy's chubby hand. Temari had only been approaching them, not having even known he would be here today, when the elderly woman caught her off guard.

_Of course not,_ she wants to yell. _Of course they're not mine. Do I look like I have kids?_

But she does. She has a career and a husband and what had always seemed like a healthy body. But too many doctors visits and agenda-ed sex have taught her enough. She doesn't have kids. She won't. And no, these are not hers.

Temari points over to where Ino is standing, a plate of food in one hand and the other covering her mouth as she laughs at something someone said. Temari shakes her head. "No they're not ours. They're hers."

The woman nods and then walks away and Temari turns on her heel and goes back over to the buffet table. She can feel Shikamaru's eyes burning into the back of her head and she knows he overheard the entire conversation, but she ignores him and keeps walking.

* * *

**4\. the fourth valentine's day that they meet accidentally, they are _mistaken for a married couple_**

"Would your husband like something?"

"My husband?" Temari looks around and sees Shikamaru standing over by the restrooms. She can't remember what he was up to today — they only had plans for later that night. He had work. It was a Tuesday, no day for dallying around a coffee shop at ten am.

But, of course, their shared-apartment is above this particular shop and the man at the counter has seen them come in together every weekend.

In all honesty, they'd been mistaken for a married couple dozens of times, and the comment doesn’t mean much, but it is always kind of surprising to hear.

Not surprising like that time she and Kankuro were out to dinner and somebody called them a very attractive couple.

That was certainly surprising. Weird too. And gross. But yes, surprising.

Whenever someone mistook her as a wife though, well, that was almost _off_ -putting.

That they thought she was old enough (which obviously she was, most of her friends had spouses at this point), or that she was responsible enough (she could barely file taxes, _much less take care of anyone with any legality_ ), or that she was even ready enough (she could guarantee this would ruin their sex life. Blow jobs would become treats instead of something she wanted to do and she would forget anything that existed outside missionary).

But all Temari has to do is look down at the ring on her finger — _hers, this time_ — and think, hey yeah, I agreed to this; and although the weight is like a ton of bricks, she doesn't correct the man, but orders Shikamaru's go-to drink along with her own.

* * *

**3\. the third valentine's day that they meet accidentally, they are _mistaken for being engaged_**

“So, how did he propose?"

Temari glances up from looking over the silverware housed in the glass counter before her. "Excuse me?"

The salesperson looks down and Temari follows the woman's gaze to her hand and realizes her own mistake. “Oh, right."

"When's the wedding?" The woman follows up with when Temari doesn't answer.

"We're not sure yet," says a new voice. The salesperson keeps smiling, but Temari's head shoots up in surprise at the very familiar, and quite unwanted, intrusion.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"We don't have a finalized date."

The woman nods and her smile changes to one of understanding, as though Temari's vibe of _let's not discuss this_ is actually in existence. Without another word, the woman leaves them and goes to help another customer.

"What are you doing here, Shikamaru?" She asks, trying to look passive and disinterested. Temari's eyes turn back to the layout of spoons and forks. She doesn't understand why it is so important to find a perfect set. If she is honest, most of them look exactly the same. And regardless, it's not as though, at any wedding she has ever attended, she has paused to observe and compliment the silverware.

"I'd remind you you're helping out _my_ best friend. I have more of a right to be here than you."

"And yet, Ino was the one that asked _me_ to pick out the perfect spoon."

Shikamaru shrugs.

Without another word, she turns and walks through the room, pausing occasionally to look in the display windows at silverware sets — though seriously, they all look identical. A scam, all of it. And the prices just keep going steeper! 

Behind her, Shikamaru inhales audibly when they hit the most expensive cases. She stops and tries to make sense of the markup. Shikamaru though, apparently moving on from his astonishment, stands beside her to reach down and runs his index finger across the band on her ring finger, not paying any more attention to their task.

Temari stiffens, not looking at him, and pulls her hand away.

"So you're engaged now?"

She huffs and turns back to the display case, placing her hands atop the glass. " _Your best friend_ ," she jibes, "thinks that if I look like a bride, they'll offer me discounts when I choose the set." She exhales, hard. "You weren't supposed to see it."

"You have a habit of accidentally running into me on this day."

Temari quirks her lip and moves further down the counter. At this rate, she'll just choose a set randomly. All of them are blurring together as it is, and suddenly Shikamaru's presence is all she can pay attention to.

"It certainly is a coincidence," she gives.

"Or it could be fate."

"Fate?" She laughs. "We even made plans for tonight so we wouldn't accidentally run into each other again. And either way, it's not like you didn't know I'd be here."

"Would you believe me if Ino assigned me silverware too?”

"Jesus."

"It's so we'd actually look like a soon-to-be-wed couple. They _do_ have discounts."

Temari sighs and slips the ring off her finger and into his hand. "Just do it yourself then."

"Is this your subtle way of telling me you want to get married?"

"Idiot. I'm telling you to do the shopping on your own if you're so set on doing it anyway."

Shikamaru balances the fake ring between his fingers, examining it. "Well," he says under his breath, "it's not like you're not getting any younger."

Temari stops from her walk away from him and turns on her heel. "You're making a great case for why I should I say Yes."

Her tone is light but Shikamaru is clearly surprised by her words. His eyes shoot up and burn into hers, bright and eager. "I'm proposing to you."

He says it as half-a-statement and half-a-question, but she answers it anyway, turning back around and waving her hand in parting. "You will. One day.”

* * *

**2\. the second valentine's day that they meet accidentally, they are _mistaken for a couple_**

"Are those seats taken?"

Temari flicks a wayward piece of popcorn into her mouth and shrinks down lower in her seat so that the people standing in the aisle can see over her.

She raises her knees and glances to her right, where an elderly woman and her wife are pointing to the seats one over from her, and then to her left, where the man sitting next to her shakes his head. Temari briefly gets annoyed that he isn't saving the seats for people, because if their row is so empty, why did he have to sit next to her?

The second woman starts to come into the aisle, but the first one pulls her hand back. "No, let's give them some privacy," she says in a loud whisper, which Temari is sure everyone in the rows around them heard.

It takes her a moment to understand what the woman was implying — after all, she hadn't been a libido-ridden teenager for a years — but then she shoots up in her seat and looks again to her apparent make-out partner.

He is staring at her underneath heavy black lashes and she acknowledges that she could do much worse (he is _attractive_ ). But then he just keeps looking at her with the most perplexed expression, frowning, as though surprised to find her there.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" He asks after an uncomfortably long moment.

She has to physically _try_ not to roll her eyes. " _That's_ your pickup-line?"

"No, I'm serious. Have we met before?"

It takes Temari a good minute before it comes back to her. His hair is shorter, but his smile is exactly the same. “Oh. _Oh_ , you’re right. You're the boy that lost his wallet last year."

It takes him a moment as well, and then he nods, remembering.

"Hey," he says, "that was exactly a year ago. Valentine's Day, remember? I gave you chocolates."

"You did?"

"I did." He smiles to himself and looks back to the screen still showing previews. "Well," he says with a laugh in his voice, "both at the pictures alone on Valentine's Day. Pretty sad, isn't it?"

She follows his gaze to the screen. "You're attractive enough. Go catch yourself someone if you're going to be melancholy."

"Only attractive enough?" He is looking at her again.

"That's what you took from that comment?"

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

Temari shrugs. "It could go either way."

"Well," he says again, eyes moving back to the screen, "it's certainly hard to understand why _you're_ single."

She opens her mouth to respond with _who says I’m single_ , but his comment was said half-jokingly, so, after a second, she swallows and leans back, sinking lower in her seat. She stuffs another piece of popcorn in her mouth.

She _really_ dislikes him.

* * *

**1\. the first valentine's day that they meet accidentally, they are _mistaken for friends_**

"Sorry," says the man whose shoulder she just bumped against.

"My fault," she mutters, not paying much attention. They are both looking over the cereal aisle. Eventually, he seems to find what he wants and steps in front of her to bend down and grab his box, saying something that sounds like _excuse me_ , before taking his food and walking away.

Temari doesn't think much of it until a younger boy walks over to where the man was standing and nudges Temari.

"Your friend dropped his wallet."

Friend? It takes her a moment before she realizes that the kid was probably referring to the man that had been shopping for cereal a minute ago.

They weren't friends — she'd never seen him before, had hardly even seen him now — but she takes the wallet anyway and runs down the aisle.

"Hey," she yells, "sir?" But the man isn't there anymore. His hair had been relatively distinctive, but she doesn't see his head anywhere by the registers. Sighing, Temari walks down the aisles until she has canvased the whole area, and then decides to continue shopping.

Afterward, she opens his wallet and searches for something to help. His license has no helpful information and his credit cards aren't even from local banks. Eventually she finds a business card tucked behind his ID and pulls it out. He's an investor.

She dislikes him already.

But she pulls out her phone anyway. It isn't like she asked for this. She has no interest in being a good samaritan, especially when it requires going far out of her way.

But it is a holiday. Valentine's day, specifically. And not having your wallet today would... well, it could fucking suck.

So she calls his office and gets his address — which they give her with worryingly little hesitation — and it is only a few minutes walk from where she is standing in the middle of the block.

He is surprised when she rings the bell, but she offers him the leather bound wallet and an explanation and he smiles.

His smile is more of a smirk than anything, eyes dark and observant. 

"Thank you so much," he says, sounding grateful, but she thinks, considering the trouble of canceling cards and losing cash and submitting for a new ID, he should be a lot more happy than he is right now. How was he even able to buy his groceries?

But she says nothing and he tells her how worried he was about it and then offers her an unopened box of chocolates he grabbed from his foyer and she takes it and gives a small bow of thanks and parting.

He belatedly wishes her a happy Valentine's Day when she's already on the bottom of his stoop and she returns the sentiment.

She looks back one last time and he is smiling as he watches her leave.

**Author's Note:**

> (special thanks to glockcourage and appy) and to chau for reminding me why i liked this fic once
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
